


It's a Walk in the Park

by Itsbadgerbadgermushroom



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Mild Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:34:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24644917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Itsbadgerbadgermushroom/pseuds/Itsbadgerbadgermushroom
Summary: Your dog brought back every stick you threw in like five seconds so this time you wanted to make it count and threw the stick as hard as you could. Little did you know that Gladio was jogging through the park and got nailed on the head by the stick causing your bigass dog to jump him, knocking him to the ground.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia & Reader, Gladiolus Amicitia/Reader
Comments: 5
Kudos: 55





	It's a Walk in the Park

Let it never be said that walking your dog was an uneventful, stress-free part of your day. Especially when your dog is the size of a small grizzly bear (no for real, you had lost count the amount of times he was mistaken for a bear and the amount of dubious looks you got when you explained that he was, in fact, a really big Newfoundland). You and Boris had a bit of a ritual when it came to your park walks; it was mandatory for you to walk to the large pond so that he could bark at the ducks and try to befriend the swans (it never ended well for him), followed by a little jaunt towards the area of trees at the end of the park. It was at this point that Boris would spend the next 20-30 minutes looking for the perfect stick and saying hello to every other dog that passed. Once satisfied he had made the right stick selection, the two of you would head back to the large open area of grass in the centre in order to play a game of fetch. Even from being a puppy it was pretty clear that Boris was a pro at playing fetch and the bigger he got the easier it became for him to snatch that stick right out of the air and come trotting back with it half hanging out of his mouth, dropping it expectantly at your feet. Today’s walk seemed no different to any other, the only minor difference being that the park was a little busier than usual – the unseasonable sunshine and pleasant breeze had brought out revellers and runners alike.

“Okay, boy.” You smiled, readying your arm for the throw. “Try not to grab it out of the air as soon as I throw it, huh?”

No sooner had you released the stick, it was back in Boris’ mouth and being dropped in front of you.

“You’re no fun.” You pouted, earning a deep bark from your dog in reply. “If you wanna play hard ball, I can play hard ball too.”

You waved the stick above your head excitedly which seemed to energise Boris, whose tail was wagging so ferociously it looked as if he was about to take off.

“Yeah! You ready, buddy? Huh? Hold onto your butt, ‘cause this is a big ‘un.”

Using all of your might, you launched the stick into the air, throwing it as hard and as far as you could. As the stick sailed through the air, your look of triumph quickly dissipated and was replaced by one of absolute horror. What the throw had in power and distance, it lacked in aim and precision and was heading straight towards an unsuspecting runner.

“Fuckkkkkkkk”.

Time slowed in that moment, like watching a train crash that you could do absolutely nothing about - and the train was your 150lb dog barrelling at what felt like 100 miles an hour. You saw as the stick made contact with the man’s head and fell onto the ground, grimacing as you prepared yourself for what was about to happen.

“LOOK OUT!!!”

The words barely left your mouth before Boris collided at full speed with the runner, sending him flying through the air before the pair of them landed with an almighty thud. You were sprinting towards the scene as fast as your legs would allow.

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry! Jesus, are you okay?! BORIS! GET OFF!”

You shooed away your dog that had taken it upon himself to lick his victim’s face, tail wagging eagerly, completely unaware of the chaos that had just unfolded. Seeing the stick on the floor, he picked it up in his mouth and settled himself on the grass with it between his paws, chewing away without a care in the world.

“I’m so sorry!” You spluttered at the man sprawled out on his back. “Are you alright? Do you need a doctor?”

He sat up gingerly, rubbing the back of his neck tenderly. You noticed the large gash on his elbow that was bleeding profusely.

“Shit! You’re bleeding! Oh god, I’m so sorry. I’m an idiot, my dog is a great big galoot”

“Hey..” He cut you off, giving you a weak smile. “It’s fine. I’m fine.” He moved as if to get up and you instinctively offered your hand. To your surprise, he took it.

“Thanks”

“It’s the least I can do” you offered. “Are you okay? Your elbow…”

“Pah, it’s just a scratch. Honestly, I’m okay…” He was smiling more warmly now, the initial shock of the collision quickly wearing off. “That’s some dog you got there.”

“Same can’t be said about my aim, huh?” You replied meekly.

“Needs a little work…” he replied without skipping a beat, seeming pleased that it elicited a laugh from you.

“Yeah… I won’t be getting picked for the softball team any time soon…”

“The talent is there, it just needs a bit of work” he winked.

‘Why am I blushing?’ you thought. ‘Of course you know why you’re blushing, he’s gorgeous! Look at those muscles, that tattoo… I bet his hair looks amazing out of that bun… I wonder if it’s soft’

“I don’t sports” You replied.

“You don’t ‘sports’?” He asked puzzled.

‘Great…’ you thought. ‘Way to make yourself look like a complete fucking idiot. Just round up the dog and leave…’

“I should get going.” You said embarrassedly. “I’m really sorry about my dog knocking you over…”

“Hey, I’ve told you. It’s fine. Honestly.” He looked straight into your eyes as he said this, those glowing embers capturing your own gaze and holding it for what seemed like an eternity. And yet, you didn’t, you couldn’t, look away. “You know what would make up for it?”

“What’s that?”

“There’s a café just along from here…” he started. “They do really good iced tea and sorbet, perfect for a day like this, right?”

“I know the place” You replied. “They do doggy friendly cupcakes there, Boris is a fan of the carrot kind.”

“You wanna maybe grab a drink?”

“Oh I don’t know…”

“Please? It’ll be fun. If it’ll make you feel better you can use this Elastoplast to patch my elbow up?” He offered with a charming smile.

The shred of resistance that you had left vanished completely and you found yourself agreeing to the stranger’s offer.

“Sure, I have Hello Kitty plasters in my bag if you’d prefer one of those?”

“Uhhh obviously, they’re way cooler than mine…”

You didn’t notice the way he looked at you with the most organic, genuine smile when you laughed at his remark, or the way his eyes lit up at the sound. You didn’t notice the way he wiped his palms on his shorts to hide the fact he was clamming up. What you did notice was the remnants of the smile that still lingered on his face and you returned it in earnest.

“Suppose we’d best get the mutt moving.” You nodded to where Boris was still happily occupied with his stick and attached his leash to the collar.

“Here, let me” the stranger offered, offering his hand for the leash. “I’ve always wanted a dog like this.”

“He has his moments” you replied. “Mostly he’s just a giant couch potato who can only be bribed with the promise of a stick or dog safe baked goods.”

“Most people could probably be bribed with baked goods… Me? I’m a sucker for pie.”

“Any kind of pie in particular?” You quizzed, enjoying getting to know your new acquaintance.

“Any pie. All pie. Although I really love a banoffee pie. On a cheat day I’ll eat a whole pie in one sitting with loads of whipped cream on top… my friends say I’m disgusting but what can I say? Sometimes a guy just needs pie.”

“I feel ya – I stopped baking so often because I was developing a real cupcake problem, ya know?” you replied.

“Oh you bake?”

“Only sometimes, although my pie crust needs a little work. Sorry, big guy.”

“Maybe I could taste test for you?” he suggested.

“I wouldn’t want to be the reason for you going on a pie binge and getting all out of shape”

“Would be safer than going for a run in the park these days.” He joked.

“I said I was sorry!” You said mock hurt.

“I Jest! I Jest! But, for real… pie.”

Never before had he wanted to hear a sound on repeat. Each laugh seemed sweeter than the last, more real, more natural. It was something he wanted to hear a lot more of, of that he was 100% sure.

“The name’s Gladio, by the way”

“It’s nice to meet you, Gladio.”


End file.
